


The Red Sky At Dawn Is Giving A Warning

by itsarealpity



Series: Geraskier Works [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Consensual Blood Drinking, Established Relationship, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Being an Idiot, Higher Vampire Jaskier, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier has been a vampire the whole time, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Past, Jaskier | Dandelion Saves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Switch Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Switch Jaskier | Dandelion, The Witcher 3 Higher Vampires, The Witcher Lore, Vampire Bites, Vampire Jaskier | Dandelion, Vampire Sex, non Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23425006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsarealpity/pseuds/itsarealpity
Summary: Jaskier had been traveling with Geralt and recording his love's adventures for quite some time. Seemingly he never aged, but The Witcher was far too smitten to really notice. After all, time moved in a different way for him. But after one contract gone wrong and having his life saved by the bard, he finds out exactly what Jaskier's secret to his youthful appearance really is.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier Works [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650880
Comments: 15
Kudos: 406





	1. The Contract

**Author's Note:**

> If you aren't familiar with the games, please look up the beastiary entry for Higher Vampires before reading!  
> Enjoy!

“Please let me come along,” the bard nagged after Geralt as he followed him out of the tavern.

“No chance. Too dangerous,” he flat out denied his request, not looking back at the other.

Geralt had just accepted a Witcher contract on a ghoul that was killing people on a trade route by their village. It was preventing vital resources from getting to their people. It was a rather easy job that didn’t pay much but it came with a night’s stay at the inn. Geralt’s bones were tired and he needed a real bed to sleep in so he took the contract.

Jaskier wanted to come with him since it wasn’t supposedly that dangerous, according to him. But any job was too dangerous to bring his bard along on. He was human and rather, well, weak having never seen real combat in their long time travelling together. Geralt didn’t even think he knew how to use a sword. Putting him in harm's way was not an option. The main reason he wanted to accompany him is to see The Witcher in action to write another ballad. In his words “his most realistic and detailed song yet”. 

“Geralt, come on now!” Jaskier pleaded, clasping his hands together.

But Geralt was being firm on this. His heart was in the right place, after all. If the other man ever got hurt on his watch, he didn’t know if he could live with himself.

“I said no. I love you too much for you to get carelessly hurt on a stupid contract.”

While the words filled Jaskier’s heart with warmth, he still felt that Geralt was being unfair. But there wasn’t any winning with him so he sighed dramatically and shrugged.

“You just have to tell me about it in detail later then, promise?” A little pout graced his perfect lips.

They looked delectable and Geralt couldn’t resist, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on them. He snaked an arm around Jaskier’s small waist and held him close for a second, the bard melting into the kiss with a satisfied hum. He pulled away much to the other’s objection and looked at him with those bright golden eyes, full of doting affection.

“Promise.”

This seemed to satisfy Jaskier for he nodded, stealing a small kiss before letting him go and stepped back with a smile pulling at his mouth.

“You better.”

With that, Geralt mounted Roach and with a small wave he was off trotting down the road towards his monster hunt. It was just one ghoul so the bard wasn’t too worried. Geralt had fought intensely more vicious creatures than that and had come out unscathed. Well, sometimes he didn’t but this would be an easy contract, he told himself. Jaskier couldn’t wait for him to get back so they could sleep in an actual bed that night. As much as he enjoyed traveling, luxury was needed now and again. Especially with the bard’s tastes. He sat down by the window and waited for his love to return, tuning up his lute to pass the time.

Normally, Geralt didn’t just take the word of his customers on what type of beast was harassing them or their villages. He always saw for himself and gathered clues and information to track it down in the most efficient way possible to eliminate as much danger as he could. The man seemed rightly sure that it was a ghoul, even describing it accurately. Four legged, nasty light skin with a mangled face, and three claws on each hand. Definitely sounded like a ghoul. It was peculiar that it was only one that was attacking the supply carts since they usually came in multiples. A pack one could say. But he only found one set of tracks near where the man had pointed him. Dismounting, he followed them into the dense woods using his heightened senses to keep track of the trail. They led him quite a distance before he heard noises in a small clearing up ahead.

Those were definitely not ghouls. Especially not just one.

He drew his silver sword and kept it at the ready as he approached the clearing with caution. Was this a trap or did the man see a ghoul near the site of the attacks and assumed it was the culprit? He leaned towards the second option because those were no bandit noises. Sounded like…

Arachas.

Must have been the ones doing the attacks and the ghoul came down interested in the corpses. There weren’t any prints from the bastards since it just rained, otherwise he would have been ready for them. It was too late to turn back and better prepare, they saw him through the bush he hid behind.

“Shit.”

There must have been five of them gathered around the ghoul corpse as they suddenly started to run at him. Fighting one of these spider-like creatures was bad enough, but five? There must have been a nest somewhere nearby. Geralt cast magic and blew fire at them, hoping it would keep them at a safe distance while he plotted the best way to take them down. Two caught fire and the other three moved back some as The Witcher charged at them. Dodging one’s pincers, he slashed at another being careful of their venom. Trying to keep aware of his surroundings as they all charged at him, he swung his sword with purpose. He moved in a fluid motion to keep up the momentum of his swings and managed to take one down that had caught on fire.

One of five. This still didn’t look good for him. With maximum effort, Geralt managed to get another one down. But this came at a cost for one of their sharp pincers caught his shoulder and sliced it open. He tried to ignore the pain to keep on guard but was thrown back to the ground with a sickening noise as he landed. One arachas charged at him, pinning him against the dirt to try and take a chunk out of his chest. Geralt managed to get his sword under the monster and stabbed through its face, effectively killing it. Not a moment to rest, the other final two came running at him and the pain in his shoulder brought his sword wielding arm slowed enough for another slice into his torso. His scream echoed through the trees as he was pinned again. This time his sword was just out of reach.

He thought of Jaskier. How earlier might have been the last time he would ever see him. Geralt thought of his sweet smell like flower hair, his soft skin, his wonderful voice (although he wouldn’t tell him that, his ego was large enough). He would never get to hear it again. Geralt should have kissed Jaskier with more feeling before he left. What would his bard do without him? He would never even know what happened to him unless he came looking for him. Then the monsters would kill him too for he would never even stand a chance. The thought almost brought tears to his eyes as he struggled to hold back the monster from eating him alive.

Suddenly, the monster disappeared from his fading vision with a terribly loud screech. The other one disappeared too with a similar sound and left Geralt alone one the ground, panting and in serious flaming pain as blood pooled around him. He managed to turn and brace himself up on one elbow, forcing his eyes to focus on the figure ripping the arachas apart with its bare hands. It looked like a human man but no human would be able to do such a thing. Upon further inspection, the humanoid had short brown hair and was wearing a familiar dark blue doublet with matching pants tucked into very familiar brown boots.

It couldn’t be.

“Jaskier?”

It had to have been a hallucination from the venom in his wounds. The supposed Jaskier-like figure finished destroying the final monster, tossing its head to the ground with hands covered in its blood. He turned to look at Geralt and hurriedly approached him. The Witcher still couldn’t believe his eyes and exerted the effort to scoot away from him just a few feet. The Jaskier-like humanoid stopped in his tracks and hesitated before speaking.

“Geralt, don’t be afraid… It’s me, Jaskier,” it was definitely his voice and it sounded almost sad.

“Get back! Whatever you are, get back! I-” The Witcher scooted back again and this time coughed hard, blood running from his rough lips down his chin.

He wasn’t going to last much longer but didn’t want to admit it. The person came rushing over to him and Geralt couldn’t move fast enough to get away, the pain blinding him and freezing up his body.

“Geralt please it’s me… Let me help you!” Jaskier took him in his arms for the man was too weak to stop him.

The Witcher couldn’t see much anymore but felt him pull his knife from his belt. This was it, the lookalike was going to kill him. At least he saw his love one last time before he…

The knife never came to his flesh and he forced his eyes open to find Jaskier’s wrist bleeding heavily, a thin stream of blood falling upon his wounds. The pain in them instantly subsided enough where he could focus his vision on the strange sight before him. 

“J- Jaskier?” He grunted and managed to shift in his arms to get a better view of his face.

He was focused on what he was doing, moving the same wrist to the other wound. He had to open the slit again for it had appeared to heal over already. The only reason it would do that is if he had some form of regenerative power. This didn’t explain the blood use though. He remembered that some types of vampire blood had healing properties but… That didn’t explain why it was Jaskier who was bent over him unless he was... one?

Geralt quickly found the strength to push Jaskier off of him, sitting up and scooting away again towards a tree. He grabbed the knife and brandished it in front of him, using the trunk to lean against. His other hand clutched the wound on his stomach, the one Jaskier didn’t finish healing.

“What are you?” His tone was dark and cautious.

The bard looked defeated almost, sitting down on the grass slowly not to alarm the other. He simply just stared at the other blankly with a touch of guilt washing over his face.

“What. Are. You?” He wouldn’t ask again.

“I’m the same person you love, Geralt,”Jaskier sighed heavily.

The Witcher looked at his knife and then past it at the other man. True, he looked and sounded exactly like the man he grew to love but that didn’t explain how he defeated two arachas with his bare hands and minimal effort. Especially didn’t explain how his blood healed his fatal wounds like they were nothing.

“Are you a-?”

“A what, Geralt?”  
He hesitated, not wanting to say it out loud in case it was true.

“A vampire?” Jaskier finished his thought for him.

He looked on, tension creasing around his wide eyes. He looked like he would flinch at his next words. The bard sighed again and walked on his knees towards the other, slowly at first hoping he wouldn’t lunge at him with the knife in hand. When he didn’t make a move on him, he came to kneel in front of the terrified Witcher. Jaskier gently pushed his arm down to move the knife out of his face and Geralt let him. Too many emotions were running through his mind that he couldn’t stop the man before he kissed his cheek softly, causing Geralt to stiffen in response. All of a sudden he felt woozy and his mind grew hazy.

“Sleep now, Geralt. We’ll talk about this once you're rested,” Jaskier’s voice was soft and melodic.

The man slumped against the tree and his vision faded to black He swore he could hear an apology in his love’s voice right before he lost consciousness.


	2. Every Promise, Every Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why would a vampire love a Witcher? Why would you befriend me in the first place? Isn’t that like a human wearing raw meat in a wolf’s den?”
> 
> “I didn’t fall for you because you’re a Witcher, you idiot! I fell in love with you the moment I saw you because of you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little heavy with dialogue here but prepare to have your hearts pulled out and stomped on.

Geralt awoke with a start, consciousness hitting him like an axe to a tree. His eyes flew open, the warm wood of a ceiling greeting him at first. He sat up a little too quickly, head spinning, obscuring his surroundings for a moment. Once his vision settled back to normal, he realized he was in a cozy room that was dimly lit from two small lanterns on either side of the bed. Upon further inspection, he was startled at Jaskier’s thin frame seated in a chair across the room from him, half covered by the darkness.

It all came rushing back to him. The contract, almost losing his life, and it being saved by his nonhuman lover. That was right, he learned that Jaskier was…

“Nice to see you awake. Feeling alright?” His words were soft and sincere.

The bard moved forward in his chair, leaning on his elbows to his knees. His interlaced fingers supported his chin, head slightly to one side. He looked beautiful in the candle light. Ocean eyes looked like they almost glowed, looking him over with concern and interest.

Geralt looked down at his earlier wounds on his bare stomach and shoulder, finding them to be completely healed over. The only way he could tell where they were, was seeing new faint scars added to his collection over the skin there. It seemed the regenerative properties of Jaskier’s blood had some limits.

“You saved me… How? Tell me everything Jaskier.”

A look of guilt washed over the bard’s face and he shifted in his seat, moving to stand at the foot of the other’s bed.

“Your keen Witcher senses can’t tell you what I am by now? The restorative blood, the strength, and the fact that I haven’t aged the entire time you’ve known me? C’mon Geralt. Don’t make me say it, please...” he looked away and sighed, defeated, leaning against the post.

“A vampire,” Geralt finally said, a little shocked at hearing it outloud from his own voice.

Jaskier nodded but looked like he was expecting something else.

“A higher vampire…”

Another nod came from the bard, this time slower, as he sat down next to Geralt’s feet.

He couldn’t place what moved his body but he reached for his sword leaning against the bed and drew it lightning fast, holding it out to rest gently against Jaskier’s throat. His eyes, unblinking, glared at the other who did not so much as bat an eye at the silver. Never had he wanted to see his blade anywhere near Jaskier, let alone about to kill him, but the hurt that ran through him blinded his judgement.

“I- I don’t even know who you are! How could you lie to me like that… For so long! For 20 years!” A sense of betrayal washed over The Witcher and he grit his teeth in fury, hand shaking that held his sword.

“You didn’t seem to mind that I never aged, Geralt. Or did you never notice?” He sounded a little annoyed but his voice never rose.

It was true that he never noticed his lack of age progression. In his defense, he didn’t view time as humans did. Since he aged slower than the normal human, he often forgot that others were supposed to age with him. Especially since his usual company were mages and magical beings that aged the same as he did. Of course he knew that Jaskier would die before he did. Geralt hoped that he would never see the day. He even wished he would die first so he didn’t have to suffer the rest of his existence alone. It was selfish really, but it was a thought that lurked in the back of his mind. He never wanted to think about his lover’s limited mortality, and he guessed he never did since the other’s words seemed to slap him with realisation. Nevertheless, he was still furious that he was lied to.

“Shut up! Why did you never tell me?!” He seethed back at the other.

“Because you'd never have stayed with me…”Jaskier admitted softly and looked away with guilt.

This made Geralt huff in exasperation. A lie in order to sustain their friendship and even their relationship? He definitely didn’t like being deceived, especially from someone he truly cared for. There weren’t many people that were honored with that level of devotion.

“Maybe I would have! You don't know... I loved you!”

“Loved? Am I just a punitive monster to you now, Geralt? Don’t forget that I loved you too, and still do!” Jaskier started to get angry then, brows furrowing with frustration as he raised his voice a small bit.

It was the bard er- vampire’s greatest fear. He never wanted to tell Geralt what he was because he was so much more than his race. So much more than a rabid blood-sucking monster. He never felt connected to his kind, even when he consorted with them as few as they were.

“Why would a vampire love a Witcher? Why would you befriend me in the first place? Isn’t that like a human wearing raw meat in a wolf’s den?”

“I didn’t fall for you because you’re a Witcher, you idiot! I fell in love with you the moment I saw you because of you!”

Jaskier, the romantic that he was, had fallen head over heels for the man the exact moment his eyes fell upon the lone Witcher seated in the corner of the building. Something about his cold loner exterior made him fascinated with the other man. Not that he hadn’t heard stories of the famous Witcher before. What social higher vampire hadn’t heard of Geralt of Rivia? Sitting down at a tavern table in front of the very man with bread in his pants was not the way he expected to meet him, but nevertheless, that was it. He was smitten and stayed smitten even through Geralt’s rejections and annoyance until finally they got together, ten years later.

There was a heavy silence between the two before Geralt spoke, voice dark and tinted with a threatening tone.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” His eyes looked to darken in the low candle light, like embers surviving after a firestorm.

“Geralt-”

“Have you ever killed anyone?! When we were together, did you kill?!”

“No! I never killed anyone while we were together. Before you say anything, yes I have killed before,” he raised his hands up in immediate defense, “Only when I was young and reckless though! And my body count fits only on one hand so…

“You’ve fucking killed…” The sword tilted his chin up and pressed into the flesh, not quite hard enough to break the skin just yet.

“Geralt! Please...” Jaskier pleaded with him, moving his head up to take some of the blade’s tension off his throat.

This wasn’t how he wanted this to go, silver sword dangerously close to slicing him open.

“Do you still drink blood?” Geralt asked quickly, tone still accuatory and vicious.

“No I don’t. I stopped at the same time as I lost my urge to kill centuries ago, okay? I don’t do that stuff anymore. I can barely even call myself a vampire. I don’t even go hunting on full moons either. I decided to focus on my music instead of all the violence that comes with being what I am…”

There was a short pause and the pressure on his throat relaxed a small bit but the blade stayed on his throat.

“Do you hate what you are?” He asked softly, seemingly less angry.

“I don’t hate it. If I wanted to be something other than I am now, it has been too long and I’ve long since forgotten. I only hate that I never told you and that you had to find out this way…”

He hated that there was a sword to his throat instead of his lips, gently kissing and biting at the flesh there. Jaskier had envisioned this night very differently and he shivered at the thought of never feeling those lips again. The way things were going, it didn’t matter if he even survived the night, all he wanted to do was be taken in the other man’s strong warm embrace and forget any of this ever happened.

“I don’t know what to say…”

And that was the part that was threatening to kill him, more so than the blade.

“I love you? I don’t care that you’re a vampire? I love you even though you're a monster? Something like that? I know you kill monsters and I hope that’s not how you see me now but if you must… I would die for you, Geralt,” Jaskier looked him in the eyes and made sure to keep his gaze as he spoke, voice filled with sorrow.

“If you have to kill me then please just do it quickly. I would rather my long existence be ended by the sword of the one I love.”

Geralt looked like he was stabbed through the heart. He felt like it too. Despite people viewing Witchers as cold and unfeeling, no part of his Witcher identity could have frozen over his heart enough to comply with the other’s request. In fact the icy grip that put the sword up to Jaskier’s throat in the first place melted and he lowered it, resting it on his lap. He could never kill the man, no matter who or what he was. No matter what lies were concealed or what promises were broken. Geralt loved his bard with all his heart and nothing would ever change that. Vampirism be damned.

“Jaskier… I can’t…” He would rather die than kill the one he loved.

The bard scooted forward and took Geralt’s face in his hands, cupping his cheeks with his palm to bring his fallen gaze upward. Their eyes met and it broke Jaskier to see the utter sorrow in those amber eyes. He knew not if it was to mourn the loss of the man he thought he knew, if he was distraught that he couldn’t bring himself to kill him, or if he simply was too emotional to read.

Slowly and with caution, Jaskier moved his face closer to the other and, when he was met with no resistance, placed a tender kiss on the other’s lips. Geralt’s lids fluttered closed for their brief contact before he regretfully pulled away.

“Please let me stay with you. I love you, Geralt, no matter what I am. That will never change,” his bright blue eyes glittered in the firelight with genuine admiration and devotion.

The Witcher thought it over, much to Jaskier’s apprehension. There wasn’t much to think about of course. There was no one in their world that he loved more than his bard. Underlying trust issues perhaps would always be there afterward but the fact remained. The man, or vampire, in front of him was the man he’d been in love with for ten years. He was also the one who saved his life earlier.

“Alright,” Geralt nodded but put his finger up, “Anymore earth shattering secrets from you though and we will have a problem…”

Jaskier beamed and shook his head.

“I promise no other secrets, I swear,” he leaned forward and placed a kiss on Geralt’s cheek, “You have my word.”

The Witcher moved his sword off the bed and fell back against the pillows with a loud sigh, pulling his love down with him. Jaskier’s head found its way to his bare chest, laying against it with a contented sigh. It felt nice to be touched by the other in a non threatening way considering the events earlier. He didn’t know if he’d ever feel it ever again, after all. But it was nice, feeling the rise and fall of Geralt’s chest as he breathed. Such an underappreciated human thing, it was.

“How long have you been alive, if you don’t mind me asking,” he brought the other out of his thoughts with such an innocent question.

“One tends to forget after a certain time… I believe it’s been about five centuries so far. I was never good at keeping track of time as it moved around me,” he chuckled, “Still pretty young for a higher vampire, though.”

“You’re five hundred years old? Damn, look pretty good considering,” Geralt teased him, earning a playful smack.

“Of course. You think I would walk through the world looking like an old man?” He teased back, earning a satisfied hum from the man under him.

Geralt sighed pleasantly and placed a kiss in Jaskier’s hair.

“Hate to interrogate you, but I have more questions. That okay?” He turned them so that they were facing each other on the bed perched on the same pillow.

“‘Course. I’ll try and answer them as best I can,” he shifted so his arm was under the pillow so he was propped up to see the other’s face.

“When you drink blood… I heard higher vampires tend to feel as if they were drunk?”

“Yes. It would be as if you drank yourself a tall glass of ale. Brings warmth to our bodies and an ease to our minds. Is that a Witcher standard to know or did you just hear that?” He chuckled.

“Heard a rumor once from another Witcher once. Not that he’d ever faced any higher vampires.”

Jaskier hummed and grinned, mischief alight in his eyes.

“Guess that makes you the only Witcher to face a higher vampire and live, hm?”

“The only Witcher to have sex with one and survive as well, right?” Geralt grinned back at him, running the backs of his fingers down the other’s soft cheek.

“Right,” he looked up under his lids and stole a kiss, scooting closer to the other to wrap his arms around the man.

The two locked gazes and moved in for another kiss, Jaskier running his hands through the Witcher’s snowy hair.

“You know a high vampire’s bite can be quite pleasurable. When we want it to be, that is…” He whispered against the other’s lips.

“You want to bite me?” He seemed a little apprehensive, “I thought I’d turn and as much as I love you…”

“No, no. We don’t turn people as so much as they must be created. It’s a whole ritual and process. No, I’ve had plenty of years to know my control. I promise you’d be safe.”

Geralt trusted Jaskier in that he wouldn’t hurt him. Hell, he risked their whole relationship on saving his life from beasts that would have killed a lesser man. But it still seemed dangerous. Though the prospect of it intrigued him.

“Alright. Do I need a safeword?” He joked.

“Leshen.”

He wasn’t joking.


	3. Sweet Nothings Are Screamed Not Spoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt’s head fell back, giving total access to the vampire. He didn’t know whether or not it was the lack of blood starting to affect him or if it was the glamour taking effect but he was putty in the other man’s claws. Geralt’s previously strained breath fell heavy from his parted lips and all he could think about was how close he was from sighing Jaskier’s name over and over again. He wasn’t used to feeling this way and yet he couldn’t remember feeling anything else. His vision shifted and turned hazy, golden eyes dilating almost fully black, as if he was in a room full of warm smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW chapter! This time with a semi power bottom Jaskier and a feral Geralt.

The prospect of being bitten by a vampire wasn’t something Geralt ever thought he would look forward to. In fact, usually those who were bitten never got to tell the tale. Not that he was going to die that night, he trusted the vampire enough not to kill him. At least that was what he was telling himself. The very fiber of his being was telling him not to do it, to keep his guard up. But his feelings, specifically the ones for his bard, got in the way. So Jaskier’s proposition was certainly an interesting one. It wasn’t often that his feelings got in the way of his gut but this was his partner after all.

“You’re serious?” Geralt looked him over as if it was the first time his eyes gazed upon his partner.

“Are you not?” He looked concerned, brows knitting together and his flawless features creasing with worry.

“I am, but... “ 

“But?”  
It took a moment for The Witcher several moments to form the correct words.

“Forgive me, Jaskier. This is all new and different…" 

The vampire leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on the other’s lips. Geralt leaned into it, the concerns he had melting away every second their mouths stayed connected. There was always a spark of energy between them when they kissed, even then. In the ten years they had been together, the pure raw energy running through them never died. It brought comfort to Geralt’s nerves to know that even after the events prior, it still was as strong as ever.

“Trust me, Geralt,” Jaskier whispered against his lips.

His sweet voice brought certainty to his mind and he nodded silently, giving his complete trust to the other.

“Anything I should know beforehand?” Amber eyes locked with cornflower blue ones and he could have drowned in them.

Jaskier touched their foreheads together and he nodded.

“When I bite you, it will hurt for the first few seconds…” He continued quickly, “But then once I use my glamour it will feel euphoric, almost as if you were given a powerful aphrodisiac.” 

“Glamour?” He inquired curiously, leaning back a hair to get a better view of his face.

“Vampiric enchantment. Usually, my kind use it to make our victims more, uh, willing… when we feed from them to make it easier on us. Most higher vampires usually prefer not to expend the extra effort though,” Jaskier’s voice was laced with nervousness.

Hearing him talking about how vampires feed from their victims made Geralt a little uneasy, especially since the bard sounded like it wasn’t the first time he had tried it. Did that make Geralt a victim then? He figured it did. But he was a willing victim, so it wasn’t as strange of a prediciment as he thought.

“So you’ll enchant me and then what? You’ll have your way with me?” He chuckled softly, an unconscious reflex to lighten the mood.

Jaskier’s cheeks suddenly were touched with pink and Geralt found it cute, considering he was the one who was deadly.

“Depends… Let’s see how you feel. It’s different with every person,” he chuckled nervously.

Geralt ignored the fact that he admitted to trying this before, who knew on how many humans.

“Alright, let’s try,” he sighed and grinned, his curiosity starting to peak.

“Okay… remember your safeword. I’ll stop immediately when you say it of course. Don’t worry about bleeding out, I’ll heal the wound over,” Jaskier moved his face into the side of the other’s neck and placed a chaste kiss on the skin he was about to sink his teeth into.

“I trust you. Go ahead,” Geralt closed his eyes and readied his body, steeling himself to prepare for the initial pain of the bite.

Jaskier swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath, rolling his head to loosen himself up. It had been over three centuries since he had blood and he was nervous. It wasn’t nerves over whether or not he would lose control. No, he was confident that he would keep it together otherwise he would have never suggested it. Geralt was safe. The vampire was nervous that the other would react in an unforeseen way. 

He hadn’t transformed in a long time as well and it felt strange to reveal himself even just a little bit. The hand caressing the back of Geralt’s neck twitched and his nails started to grow, pressing into the other man’s flesh gently. His nails lengthened into claw-like talons about two inches long, or that was as long as he would let them go. Geralt moved back to watch the other’s face and his eyes widened, seeing it contorted as he transformed.

Jaskier’s gaze locked with the other’s hoping that he wouldn’t watch in case he was horrified. But this didn’t stop him from continuing, his upper lip curled and his jaw clicked from side to side as his fangs descended from his gums over his human canines. Longer than the myths, they went past his lips to the crease under his lower lip. His eyes suddenly blackened, the whites of his eyes changing with one long blink making the beautiful blue stand out and look to be almost glowing. Skin losing its color slightly, only noticeable to his partner, he knew he must look a sight.

Geralt looked on with amazement which was much better than horror, according to the vampire. He was expecting his partner to be repulsed with his quarter way transformed appearance. Jaskier looked down at his lap, shame starting to creep over his face. The Witcher reached forward and tenderly raised his head by his chin, leading his mouth back over to the side of his neck.

“Jaskier…” he breathed and tilted his head back to reveal more of his throat.

The vampire gently brushed his nose against his skin, sending a shiver up Geralt’s spine. His icy breath ghosted over the fine hairs there which made the other suck in a sharp breath. Not wanting to draw it out any longer, Jaskier took one quick look over his neck and sunk his long fangs into the flesh. Blood rushed into his mouth and he couldn’t help but moan as the thick liquid ran down his throat.

Geralt flinched and gasped, gritting his teeth as the initial pain surged through his neck down his body. He gripped onto Jaskier’s soft brown hair and took a fistful of it, teeth gritting in a snarl. The pain was nothing like he had ever felt before in his long life of monster hunting. It wasn’t something he couldn’t handle though and bore with it for his partner as best as he could.

Witcher blood. It tasted incredible, nothing he had ever tasted could compare. It was so much richer, like a burning whiskey setting fire to his throat as it went down. He could feel Geralt under him strain against the tight grip on his shoulders and he was reminded that he needed to continue with his enchantment. Not removing his mouth from the precious blood giving wound, he moved a finger and scratched a small circular symbol into the back of the other’s neck. Jaskier bit down deeper, including his saliva in the wound this time, and said a small spell under his breath.

Suddenly the pain throbbing through Geralt’s body vanished. It was instantly replaced with a heat like no other. Starting from his neck it spread through his veins like a wildfire, burning every inch of his body up.

“J- Jaskier…” He breathed, his grip on the man tightening with each pulse of his heart.

Geralt’s head fell back, giving total access to the vampire. He didn’t know whether or not it was the lack of blood starting to affect him or if it was the glamour taking effect but he was putty in the other man’s claws. Geralt’s previously strained breath fell heavy from his parted lips and all he could think about was how close he was from sighing Jaskier’s name over and over again. He wasn’t used to feeling this way and yet he couldn’t remember feeling anything else. His vision shifted and turned hazy, golden eyes dilating almost fully black, as if he was in a room full of warm smoke.

Jaskier felt euphoric, The Witcher’s blood sending waves of pleasure through the vampire. In turn, waves of pleasure were being sent through the other as well. He began to writhe against the bard’s body, hips getting anxious. It wasn’t like Geralt to feel needy and desperate but he was just that.

“Jaskier please…” He bucked his hips against the other’s thigh and his fingers strained against the fabric of the other’s doublet.

As if snapped back to reality, Jaskier opened his eyes and realized Geralt was shaking with want. Moving his mouth away from the delicious blood wasn’t what he wanted but he needed to stop or he thought the other would combust. Jaskier gave it up and pulled his fangs away with effort, running his tongue up his neck to collect the spilled precious liquid. In turn, he managed to remember through his drunk-like state to nick his tongue on his fangs so he could use his blood to heal the puncture wounds over. The gesture made Geralt moan and the sound set Jaskier ablaze.

The vampire retreated to take in the sight of his shirtless Witcher. Panting through wet lips, rutting up against his leg, and head lolled back with his body hot as the sun. It was certainly a sight that Jaskier welcomed and would never forget.

“Geralt are you alright-?” He started but the other grabbed his arm and crashed their lips together.

The Witcher could taste the iron of his blood on the vampire’s lips and it just brought him further into his heated trance. He pulled Jaskier on top of him and yanked at his doublet, sloppily undoing the buttons. Jaskier could hear how quick his pulse was and thought it was so exciting that he made his partner feel such a thing. Coupled with how good the blood felt warming his body, the desperate hands pulling at his clothes brought Jaskier his own heat.

Helping him out, the bard finished the last button and tossed the clothing to the floor, ridding himself of his shirt as well. Geralt pulled him back down and bared his own teeth, biting into the other’s skin enough to leave a purple crescent mark on his neck. Surprised but undaunted, Jaskier figured he deserved the favor returned to him.

“Jaskier, you need to get on my cock right now or I’m gonna put you there myself,” Geralt hissed through his teeth.

Bringing color to the vampire’s cheeks, the words sunk into him. His erection was already straining against his pants and he could feel Geralt through the cloth as well, rutting against his thighs. He loved his Witcher like this.

“Hold on, now. I think you’ll enjoy this,” Jaskier grinned, showing off his fangs.

He moved down the other’s glistening body, scraping the tips of his fangs and claws along the skin which brought out heavy moans from the overly sensitive man. The vampire used his sharp nails to slice the buttons on his pants clean off and took hold of Geralt’s cock, freeing it from his trousers. He was always amazed at the size of it even through the years and he felt himself salivate. Eyes that were blue islands in pools of black blinked to Geralt’s panting and flushed face, admiring it. But he knew his Witcher was impatient so he knelt down, nuzzling the base of it with his nose.

Jaskier had to be careful with those long sharp teeth of his. He retracted them to be small enough not to pose a threat but left them long enough that Geralt would be able to feel them. His mouth was on him instantly, running his tongue from the base of his cock up to the head to playfully suck there, watching his reactions carefully as he memorized each one.

“Jaskier- Fuck-” The Witcher threw his head back and his hand came down to fist itself in his soft brown locks.

He didn’t have much time to tease the other before Jaskier’s head was dragged down with force, all the way to the hilt. At the same time, Geralt thrusted upward to push into the back of the vampire’s throat causing him to gag. The Witcher set a relentless pace before the other could even react. Using his inhuman strength, he gripped Geralt’s hips and pinned them to the bed so hard light bruises formed over the skin under his fingers.

“Be patient, Geralt.”

“Fuck, just-” His words were stolen by the grip tightening on his flesh, only managing a moan.

“Just let me take care of you,” Jaskier mused and went down on him again, taking control.

It wasn’t like Geralt to have such a thing taken from him and the way his blood burned in his veins, he needed it. But not having control made him even more heated but he complied, fisting his hands into the sheets for support. Jaskier bobbed his head at his own pace, feeling the man under him squirm. He made sure the sides of his fangs rubbed against his cock and each time it was met with a heavy gasp, pulling at the bard’s lips to form a grin.

“Fuck, Jaskier please…” He could feel the fabric in his grasp tear with how much he needed more.

The vampire popped off of him and smirked, running his tongue up the side of his thigh. With only a small glance of warning, Jaskier released his fangs again and sunk them into the flesh there, drawing blood into his mouth with a groan. The second time tasting his blood was even better.

Geralt groaned and his fingers came down to thread themselves into his bard’s hair again, resisting the urge to pull. His vision blurred and he felt his cock twitch in warning that just like that, he was close. His back arched off the bed and his moans were breathless as they tumbled out of his mouth. It was too much for him and he felt himself lose it, ribbons of his come decorating Jaskier’s shoulder and fingers as he almost yelled out through his teeth. Despite having just finished, it was as if he was never touched and he still needed more, cock still hard and standing proudly by the other’s face. His confused look broke through the utter desperate expression he had going for him and Jaskier noticed. Pulling away and sealing the wound on his leg, he chuckled.

“Vampire magic.”

Geralt clenched his jaw and suddenly hoisted the other by the throat up to force their mouths together again. He reached down and actually ripped Jaskier’s trousers away at the seams from his hips, exposing his erection. A shame, Jaskier really loved his outfit, not that he could concentrate on that at the moment. The Witcher pulled the vampire’s hips forward and lined them up with his cock. All he got for lubricant was the spend that had run down the shaft which Geralt smeared all along it quickly. Before Jaskier could get a word out, he was pulled down onto the other. He was done letting the vampire have control.

“Geralt!”

The sting of no preparation set Jaskier’s body on fire but the pain was quickly replaced with pleasure as the other thrusted into him with unbearable speed. His body fell forward and he gripped onto Geralt’s shoulders desperately for support, long nails digging into his skin hard enough to leave marks. Both of their moans sounded almost in harmony with each snap of his hips, Jaskier’s fangs bared as he gasped. His eyes never left Geralt, he wanted to savor this moment. 

The vampire reached down and stroked himself to the timing of the other’s thrusts, head falling back as he was engulfed by the pleasure building up in his body. Geralt’s name fell from his lips between melodic moans which just drove The Witcher to be even more merciless. Jaskier loved this version of his lover. He may have to take up drinking again if this was the result.

The Witcher blood in his veins made his pleasure more intense. It swelled in him and finally burst. Jaskier couldn’t take anymore and clawed down Geralt’s chest with those nails as he came harder than he had ever come in his life, seeing stars. Swears and the other’s name were ripped from him and his whole body twitched, muscles tightening up. This made Jaskier impossibly tight and it made the other groan as he fucked him through his climax. Geralt pushed into him especially deep and finished inside the other with a strangled cry of his lover’s name. The bard’s eyes rolled back into his head as he was filled up.

Thinking he was done, Jaskier started to pull off him but his hips were brought back down again.

“Fuck, Geralt- W- Wait-” He tried to stop him but before he knew it, he had been pushed back onto the bed and was being flipped over so his tender ass was in the air. 

The Witcher wasn’t done with him. The glamour hadn’t worn off yet and Jaskier swallowed hard. What if it didn’t wear off anytime soon? Sure, his body was much more resilient than that of a human’s, but he was already so sensitive, he wasn’t sure how much longer he would last. 

Geralt slammed into him again, this time with slower yet more calculated thrusts. Jaskier’s mouth fell open and his eyes fluttered closed, it felt so good even though he felt like he would break any minute. Geralt seemed to have more control because each thrust hit that one spot that brought a scream out of the vampire, slightly muffled by the sheets his face was pressed against. The yelling seemed to push The Witcher to hit that same spot even harder. If Jaskier’s eyes rolled further back, they would fall out of his skull. His head was blank except for the violent swarm of pleasure thoroughly drowning his mind. The bard’s claws gripped into the sheets tightly as he felt another orgasm hit him with enough force to make his head spin. Luckily Geralt finished again inside him at the same time, the bed creaking with how hard he moved.

Jaskier fell limply to the bed, gasping when the other’s cock pulled out of him. He looked back to find Geralt had fallen back as well, chest heaving and his heart sounded ready to jump out of his chest. It seemed his glamour had worn off, for The Witcher seemed spent, cupping his own face like he had just been woken up from a restless night’s sleep. With great effort the vampire moved around to crawl up to the other man, placing a lazy kiss on his hand.

“Well, what did you think?” Jaskier asked him between his heavy breaths.

Satisfied, his eyes returned to their usual state, white globes with those brilliant blue irises standing as bright as ever. The claws retracted as well as his fangs so he looked like a regular human again.

“Oh fuck… That was incredible Jaskier,” Geralt finally gathered enough breath to tell him.

It was more than incredible but he couldn’t find any more words to describe it. He would have never guessed that a vampire’s bite would turn him so ravenous.

“Well, thanks. I try,” the bard chuckled and scooted up to lay on his lover’s chest, finding comfort in hearing his heartbeat return to its usual rhythm over time.

“Normally I wouldn’t condone vampires drinking my blood, but I think I can make an exception for the next time… and time after that.”

Jaskier smiled and shook his head, “Oh yeah? Well I feel the same way, your blood is incredible.”

“You gonna write a song about it?”

“Oh yes that would go over well, out myself instantly. Although I can say that your blood burns like fire as it goes down. Like… whiskey. That would make a good lyric,” he mused and Geralt breathed a laugh.

The Witcher moved out from under the other and went to grab some towels from the washroom across the room, returning to hand a wet one to Jaskier. They cleaned up in silence and once they were dry, Geralt pulled his bard back into bed with him. They were both spent, Geralt more so, and after a few words of adoration, they settled into sleep.

Outside, the peaceful sounds of the crickets and the wind were interrupted with gentle footsteps. There stood a man in a black cloak watching their window from across the road. The breeze pushed it aside enough to reveal a Witcher’s medallion shining in the moonlight. Just as he appeared from the darkness, he returned to it seemingly disappearing into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find more updates on my nsfw twitter, oneferalqueer!


	4. Sacrifices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Geralt of Rivia,” the man started, pulling his hood down to reveal himself as definitely another Witcher, “Protecting a beast… Never thought I would see the day.”

The next morning, Geralt woke first and found Jaskier’s head resting on his chest. He seemed to be peacefully asleep, head rising and falling with his breaths. The bard’s soft bangs had fallen in his face and the strands moved with the gentle twitch of his pretty eyelashes. Soft snores blew away from his parted lips rhythmically, lightly tickling the other’s chest.

Geralt would never admit it, but that sight was almost better than the events of the previous night. He moved slightly and Jaskier stirred, nuzzling his cheek into the skin under it. He looked so sweet like that, even though he technically was a monster.

A monster...

The memories of the day before hit him like a ton of bricks. That was right, his partner was a vampire. Not just a vampire, a higher vampire who was more than five hundred years old. It took a moment to reprocess all that information. Not only did he commit the sin of letting such a vampire drink his blood willingly, he let the other enchant him willingly and fucked said vampire silly. He knew somewhere out there Vesemir was getting a headache.

But Jaskier was no mere creature in his Bestiary. He loved him and had loved him for years. The repercussions of his actions started to weigh on him but he pushed them out of his mind when his lover shifted against his body, eyes fluttering open. Trying to get back to that mood he had when he first woke, Geralt shifted as well so he could place a kiss on Jaskier’s forehead. The man smiled, warmth radiating off his face.

“Good morning, Jaskier,” he whispered into his soft brown locks and planted another kiss on them.

The bard hummed in response and stretched his body out like a cat. He looked up at the other and shifted to lean on his elbow, stealing a kiss from his lips.

“Good morning, Geralt.”

There was a short silence and both their faces fell slowly. It seemed the air around them shifted as guilt washed over both of them suddenly. Rather, it was those pesky repercussions creeping over both of them now. Golden irises met cornflower ones and they both lost their focus as memories of the night before gripped at them.

What now? A question that both graced their lips at the same time. Jaskier could never be exposed as a vampire, that was for certain. He could never be around other Witchers for fear of discovery. Not that they would be able to tell right away, but even if something accidentally was said or an action was performed with more speed than it should have… He would be killed on sight. Despite Jaskier’s pitiful words the previous night about letting Geralt kill him, the vampire did not want to die. Especially not by some other Witcher’s sword. Jaskier knew that he could probably take one Witcher on and win, but that would mean killing one of Geralt’s brothers. That wasn’t an option either and he could only imagine Geralt defending him there by alienating him from the rest of the Witchers, putting a target on both of their heads. Living a life of running wasn’t how Jaskier wanted to spend out his days with his love.

The question had no real answer.

They sat in silence, minds spiraling into the worst possible situations. Finally Geralt shook his head and raised Jaskier’s chin with his fingers so their gazes met. He smiled softly and claimed a chaste kiss.

“Let’s get breakfast. No use in worrying on empty stomachs. We can talk about this later.”

Jaskier took hold of his hand and brought it up to his cheek to lean into the touch. He loved the way those calloused fingers felt against his soft face. It brought him comfort. He nodded and slipped off the edge of the bed to pad over to his clothes, frowning when he found his destroyed trousers on the floor. He had forgotten that Geralt had literally ripped them off him the night before. 

“Sorry,” Geralt chuckled as he watched him let the garment fall to the floor.

Luckily, he had a spare outfit in his pack. He started dressing himself in his new outfit while the other watched. A rich scarlet doublet decorated with gold embroidery of peacock feathers down the front and side seams accompanying intricate golden lace trim across his chest as well as matching trousers with a light brown shirt peeking up from the collar, he looked exquisite.

Geralt’s trousers were destroyed too, the buttons scattered on the floor. He wasn’t one for carrying an extra pair of clothes but having travelled with Jaskier for so long, he was made to for the sanity of his partner. He pulled a loose fitting black shirt, similar to his usual one, out of his pack and brought out black trousers as well. Putting them on, he realised he looked quite handsome, his chest shown off under some leather lace holding the fabric together. The trousers made from thin leather had been perfectly tailored when they were bought and hugged his ass nicely, a thin stripe of silver running up his legs to accent his thighs. Of course Jaskier would have picked him out something that was easy on the eyes. There was a black doublet but he neglected to put it on since he rather hated them, much to his partner’s dismay.

They went downstairs and sat down in a corner, away from others so they could talk privately. Once their food was placed in front of them, Geralt broke the silence.

“Do you even need to eat?”

“No, technically. I just got used to it while passing as a human for so long,” Jaskier smiled sadly, “Besides, I have to keep up the illusion, right?”

Geralt’s gaze fell into his food.

“About that…”

“Look Geralt, I- Well, I haven’t been discovered in three hundred years. I doubt that I’ll be discovered now. Especially since I’ve been your partner. No one would suspect a higher vampire would be dating a Witcher,” he reached forward and took Geralt’s hand.

“Wait- you were discovered once? Jaskier…” He took his hand back and worry creased his features.

“Once! It was so long ago and I burned the contract,” he tried to reassure the other.

“A contract?! One was placed on you?! Jaskier that is incredibly dangerous, what happened to the Witcher, did he come after you?”

Jaskier looked away and Geralt got in his eyeline, demanding an answer.

“The person who placed the contract saw me drink, back when I used to do that. I was careless... He managed to contact a Witcher rather quickly because I was ambushed in the forest as I travelled out of that small town the next day. Another vampire was with me and told me to run since I was so young… The Witcher was killed by the other, I didn’t do it. He went back and burned the contract and killed the whole town, burning it to the ground… It was horrible but we had to erase anyone who would have known about us,” Jaskier looked like he was about to be sick with the memories coming out of his mouth, ashamed at his actions.

Geralt leaned back and huffed, looking away from the other. He placed his head in his hands and rubbed his temples.

“I’m going to ignore the horrifying amount of death for a second, are you sure that Witcher never told anyone else about you? What did you- or the other vampire do with the body?” He looked up at Jaskier with a disappointed look and it stabbed him in his inhuman heart.

“They took his medallion so his corpse wouldn’t be recognised… The body was dragged into town and burned with the rest of the town,” he replied sheepishly.

The man sighed and shook his head again. Despite killing an entire town to protect Jaskier’s identity, another Witcher was murdered as well. Granted, all of the Witchers that faced higher vampires never lived to tell the tale so it wasn’t surprised. If they weren’t so rare, they would be the biggest threat to them. Jaskier wasn’t a threat to Geralt, at least he thought that way. A small part of him did fear his power but he knew that the man loved him.

Geralt was silent for a long time and every second of it was a knife turning in Jaskier’s stomach.

“You have to be careful. I can’t do something like that for you if you get discovered…” The Witcher sighed and took a bite of his cold food.

“I wouldn’t ask that of you, Geralt.”

He knew that and yet it hurt to hear. Normally, he would do anything for the ones he loved, greater or lesser evil be damned. Burning a whole town to the ground to cover up a secret, could he be the Butcher of Blaviken again? But the real question was turning his back on the other Witchers, was that something he could do? It made him curse out loud and drop his fork on the table. Jaskier flinched.

“Please Geralt… I am not as reckless as I was before. It has been three hundred years and not one Witcher has looked at me as anything more than a human. Believe me I have run into them occasionally. Usually the only reaction I get from them is annoyance if they see me in taverns. There is no way that anyone is even still alive that knows about that incident, it’s been so long. I promise it won’t even be an issue. Just please treat me like a human?” He trailed off when Geralt didn’t even look up at him.

“I will, but the danger you’ll be in with me from now on has to bother you right?” He finally said and glanced up at him.

“I risked my life for you and I would do it every day if that meant that I could be by your side,” Jaskier reached forward with shaky hands and touched the other’s hand.

When Geralt didn’t pull away he took his rough hand in his and squeezed lightly. When they first met, The Witcher had told the bard that he needed no one and the last thing he wanted was someone needing him. Several years later, he knew that those words were nothing to him now. He had Jaskier, the one he loved and the one he would die for.

“Despite everything you just told me, I love you Jaskier. I will love you to my last breath, no matter who or what causes it. But promise me that you will stay out of danger, no matter what it is. There are some things I can’t protect you from,” he squeezed his hand, golden orbs somehow dull in the light.

“I’m not asking you to protect me, I can manage on my own. I’m not asking you to choose between the Witchers and myself. If the time comes, I will make that choice.”

Geralt’s eyes snapped to the other and looked him over. There was only silence. It was the end of the discussion.

Jaskier squeezed his hand one more time and smiled sadly before going to eat his cold food. Geralt’s mind was racing as he too ate, both of them cleaning their plates. It was such a shame that the euphoria of the night before and the morning couldn’t carry over with them. But Jaskier was glad they got it out of the way even though his whole body felt on edge, adrenaline flowing through it. 

Geralt got up first and looked to the other to follow, leaving the tavern to find Roach. He placed his pack on her and put his hand out to silently ask for Jaskier’s. The bard smiled, nodded, and handed him the pack. Geralt pulled the strap while the other still had a hand on it to yank the man over to him, grasping his face to plant a passionate kiss on his lips. Jaskier could have stayed like that the rest of the day but eventually they both pulled away, smiled brightening their features.

Perhaps this was going to be okay, after all.

Jaskier climbed behind Geralt on Roach and they set off. They had no real destination but they knew another town was nearby, about a day’s ride away. Geralt hadn’t made any money from his last contract and knew there would at least be a noticeboard that he could earn some coin from. They needed it, especially if they were going to find a place to stay for the next coming days. A storm was coming and they were not camping in the woods during it.

About halfway to the town, they stopped to eat. Geralt had caught some rabbits and as they were cooking, the two sat next to each other, Jaskier’s head on the other’s shoulder. They made idle conversation about nothing at all and it was refreshing considering that hours before they had the most serious conversation possible. The cool breeze moved through their hair and brought peace to the two.

Setting off again shortly after they finished eating, they made their way to their destination with good time. The sun had just set and there was only a small part of forest left to cross. It was rather thick, the trees surrounding them as they made one last stop to eat the last bit of their food. Leaning against a tree, Geralt ate quietly, slightly tired from the journey. The other sat and plucked out some chords on his lute to pass the time. Jaskier suddenly stopped mid motion and his body froze up, going absolutely still.

“Jaskier?” Geralt glanced over to him and cocked his head to the side, concern gradually growing on his face.

The man quickly looked off into the forest, head snapping towards something geralt couldn’t see. Before he could open his mouth again, Jaskier raised his hand to stop him.

“Something is here.”

Geralt instantly used his Witcher senses and could hear the very faintest sound of a leaf being crushed under a footstep.

“What is it?” He asked quietly, hopefully so the mysterious thing couldn’t hear him.

“Human… or-” 

Jaskier moved his head back impossibly fast, a crossbow bolt sticking out of the tree he was sitting against. Someone had fired at him out of the distance. Ripping the arrow out of the bark, he smelled it and grimaced.

“Vampire oil…”

“A Witcher.”

They both stood and another bolt flew at them, just missing the bard’s cheek.

“Shit!”

Geralt drew his sword and Jaskier stood close to the other, eyes tracking the sound through his superior hearing. Someone knew. They knew that Jaskier was a vampire. Not just anyone though, another Witcher knew that Jaskier was a vampire.

Jaskier finally caught a glimpse of the man in the darkness, taking a step forward to sprint at him. Geralt put his hand out and caught the other just in time, swinging him by the doublet out of the way of another bolt.

“Stay with me. Don’t fight him. Let me deal with this,” he muttered and came between the other Witcher and Jaskier.

Geralt readied his blade and managed to deflect another bolt with the utmost precision.

“Show yourself!” He yelled out into the darkness.

Finally, the cloak shrouded man came forward into the campfire light, sword in hand, the runes on it glowing faintly. Oil dripped from the tip of the sword. He came prepared.

“Geralt of Rivia,” the man started, pulling his hood down to reveal himself as definitely another Witcher, “Protecting a beast… Never thought I would see the day.”

“There’s only one beast here and it’s you,” Geralt snarled at him.

The other Witcher chuckled, his yellow eyes shining in the light. Jaskier shifted his weight to his back foot, ready to fight. He absolutely did not want to fight but the other did come for him first and he would be damned if he would let the other hurt Geralt.

“I don’t want to fight you…” He started and held out his hand between them.

“Hand over the vampire. He’s a monster.”

“Over my dead body.”

“So be it.”

The other Witcher lunged at Geralt, their swords clashing so hard, it sent off sparks. Jaskier moved back and grit his teeth. It was much too late to try and fake his way out of this one. There was no point in trying to lie and deny that he wasn’t a vampire. The man had come so prepared. How did he know? Jaskier had been so careful. Did someone hear them at the tavern? Or perhaps heard them in their room? It didn’t matter because Geralt was fighting the other Witcher, swords a blur in the firelight. He couldn’t just stand there and watch, he had to do something.

Jaskier darted forward impossibly quick to appear behind the other Witcher, switching his weight to turn and grab the man’s arm. He caught it but stopped suddenly, eyes connecting with Geralt’s over his shoulder. A small blade coated in vampire oil had sunk into Jaskier’s side. 

“Jaskier!” He yelled out and took another swing at the Witcher, hoping he was distracted. 

The man was not, and countered while ripping the blade from the vampire’s flesh. The oil burned like no other, causing him to stumble back and clutch the bloody wound tightly. He could feel his fangs descend over his teeth and his nails grow into claws. Jaskier didn’t want to fully transform in front of Geralt. He didn’t want him to have to see such a gruesome appearance. But he could feel his body itch, skin wanting to stretch over his much larger form. Just as he moved to run at The Witcher who wounded him, Geralt pushed him back with Aard, sending him crashing to the forest floor.

“Don’t fight him! Just go!” He called to his bard, dodging the silver swinging at him.

Jaskier was not going to leave him like that, facing off against the dangerous man. He managed to get a hit on Geralt and Jaskier cursed, running at him again. The vampire had no sword or weapon, but he used his claws to get a deep scratch into the other Witcher. Instead of recoiling from the gash, he turned and cast his fire spell which caught Jaskier off guard. The blaze sent him flying back to writhe on the ground, desperately trying to put the fire out on his clothes.

“No! Jaskier!” Geralt ignored the wound on his side and charged again, this time managing to knock back the other’s sword. 

Going in for the kill, his sword was caught by the man’s dagger. He was so fast and so skilled, Geralt started to panic. He looked over his shoulder at Jaskier who managed to snuff the flames from his clothes and was panting on the forest floor. A mistake, because the other Witcher stabbed him with the small dagger right in the arm. He recoiled backwards and the man dashed behind him, running at Jaskier who was barely getting up. Unfortunately, he couldn’t react in time.

The silver sword had buried itself deep inside Jaskier’s torso. It all happened so fast that Geralt stood motionless for a moment, watching his partner scream out in pain, falling to his knees. The vampire gripped the blade and snarled at him, eyes going black. Just as he reached forward to sink his claws into the man’s throat, the blade inside him twisted and sliced out of Jaskier’s body, leaving his torso connected only by a small bit of flesh.

The sight of his lover crumpling to the ground in a bloody mess sent shockwaves through Geralt’s body. He couldn’t be dead, there was no way it would be that easy.

“JASKIER!”

His scream ripped through the night, echoing off the trees. No time to mourn, he thought. He had to kill the man who ended the love of his life, witcher or not. His rage blinded him even as he sprinted at the other. Their swords clashed again, this time he was fueled by the white hot fury that burned his blood, threatening to consume him. His emotions got the best of him and the other Witcher took advantage of it, managing to push him back to be cornered against a large tree. Geralt raised his sword to block an attack and the metal was knocked from his hand into the darkness. 

“It’s over you monster fucker,” the other Witcher hissed, the tip of his sword coming to rest against Gealt’s throat.

It was, wasn’t it? Even if he was spared, he couldn’t live knowing that he let Jaskier get killed. His love was dead and the moment his partner fell to the ground, his soul died with him.

“Go ahead, kill me,” he finally said, eyes locking with the other golden ones.

There was no reason to fight anymore.

“With pleasure...”

Just as the blade seemed to move forward to pierce Geralt’s throat, it disappeared, flung off into the trees. The other Witcher looked around frantically and was suddenly thrown away from the other as if he was being pulled by something invisible. The Witcher’s armor seemed to be grasped and he was dragged into the darkness by the invisible force. All Geralt could hear was a guttural scream, followed by the sound of tearing flesh and bones cracking in the dark of the night.

He stepped forward cautiously, trying to see what was causing such carnage. It couldn’t be who he thought it was. Jaskier’s body had disappeared from the pool of blood and Geralt startled when he heard the screams stop. Something started to come towards him and he instantly took a step back.

Out of the shadows, came a fully transformed higher vampire. Towering over Geralt with sickly blue purple skin stretched over a sinewy human like torso. Its bloody claws looked to be half his height and the eyes were completely black, sitting in sunken sockets. A large maw covered in blood closed, teeth and fangs overlapping its lips. Wings spanned out from behind it reflecting the light from the campfire and looked to almost glow.

Geralt took a step back instinctively.

“J- Jaskier?” he hoped, taking another step back.

Geralt found himself trembling. There was a reason no Witcher ever got to tell the tale of facing a higher vampire. The creature stopped in its tracks and stared at The Witcher. He said his lover’s name again and the vampire took a step forward, nodding silently. This was what Jaskier truly was? No wonder he had referred to himself as a monster.

“Is that you?” 

The vampire nodded again, continuing to approach him. Jaskier stopped just out of reach from his partner and moved to his knees, leaning his head down in an almost bow. Geralt slowly reached out and tentatively put his hand on the vampire’s head, letting out a breath when he wasn’t attacked.

“This is your true form?”

Another nod.

Despite a monstrous looking creature covered in a Witcher’s blood kneeling before him, Geralt seemed to relax. The vampire looked up at him as his pulse slowed and moved his head so his hand cradled his cheek, his favorite thing to do to wordlessly tell Geralt he loved him. The Witcher moved closer and took Jaskier’s big head in his arms, hugging him tightly despite all instincts to flee the horrid sight before him.

“I thought I lost you…” Geralt confessed, muffled into the other’s purple skin.

As if on command, the vampire twitched and he grew smaller, arms coming back to a normal length, body turning back to its human appearance. It was almost gruesome to watch but Geralt never took his eyes off him. This was Jaskier and he felt he needed to watch. To accept him in any form.

Finally Jaskier has returned to his human appearance, nails short, fangs gone, and with a blink, his eyes were white once again. He knelt before The Witcher and hung his head. It appeared his torso had healed over with a giant scar where the flesh seemed to have grown together. Geralt reached over and raised his chin so their gazes met, the other’s eyes filled with shame.

“I’m sorry Geralt… I know I’m a monster but I didn’t want you to see that...” Jaskier’s voice was a bit raspy as if he had been crying.

“You’re not a monster…” Geralt tried to say softly.

“As you just saw, I am,” he spat back.

“I don’t care. You’re still my Jaskier, my bard, my love,” he wouldn’t let the other look away.

The Witcher took his face in his hands and Jaskier leaned into his tender touch. Slowly as if to ask for permission, Geralt moved his face forward to finally place the gentlest kiss on his lips. Jaskier melted into the touch and kissed him back, softly humming. The two held the kiss for what seemed like ages and yet it wasn’t enough.

“I love you, Jaskier, no matter what.”

He smiled and rested his forehead on Geralt’s chest, breathing out a little laugh.

“I love you too, Geralt, no matter what.”

The man pulled back and kissed the bard again, helping him to his feet. Jaskier broke the kiss to pull him into a tight embrace. They stood there for a long time before Geralt spoke again.

“C’mon, take my shirt, let’s get into town. It feels like it will rain any moment.”

Jaskier pulled back and nodded, taking the shirt he retrieved from his pack. He dressed himself again as Geralt fetched Roach, climbing up behind the other man. He rested his cheek on his back, wrapping his arms around his waist.

This would be okay.

They would be okay.

And they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find all the rest of my updates on my future fics on my twitter oneferalqueer

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Im really proud of this one and it means the world that you took the time to read though this work!  
> Find updates over on my nsfw twitter, oneferalqueer


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